


Stuck On A Feeling

by girlpda



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, Reunions, Takes place years after the end of the phantom troupe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:45:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6866698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlpda/pseuds/girlpda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feitan’s heels dragged across the sand as he wandered around the broken, crumbling city, forcing his exhausted body to the nearest safehouse he could find. It was pathetic that in times like this he always found himself looking for comfort in things that should be long dead to him</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Feitan’s heels dragged across the sand as he wandered around the broken, crumbling city, forcing his exhausted body to the nearest safehouse he could find. It was pathetic that in times like this he always found himself looking for comfort in things that should be long dead to him. He’d known it was a bad idea but the safehouse was only solace he’d ever known in the dead ghost town, though there was no guarantee it’d be all that safe anymore Feitan truly was a creature of habit. He felt as if all the buildings could cave in on him at any moment, but he continued to trudge through the dusty old place looking for the one structure that might offer him some rest.

Though he felt comfort in the old building it’d be idiotic to pass the threshold of the place without first searching it. His En pulsed as he sent it out searching for any signs of life in the old decrepit place, sensing nothing but a few scavenging animals. He sighed in contentment before pushing the door open on its rusty, creaking hinges. It opened to a spacious room lit only by the few rays of moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the walls. Every surface was covered in a film of dust that made the room feel heavy, though the silence of this place that once held so much life for Feitan was far more crushing than he’d ever like to admit

He felt his feet moving on their own accord as he walked up the few steps that led to the ledge his leader always claimed as his space. He closed his eyes as his fingers ghosted along the rows of long forgotten and half melted candles, brushing the dust off of the colored wax. There was a short moment of hesitation before his short fingers gripped the edge of the raised platform as he hoisted himself up to sit in the place Chrollo once did, before the disbandment of the troupe. The seat provided a perfect view of every grimy corner of the room and Feitan allowed himself a moment to take it all in, scooting himself backwards to rest his heavy shoulders against the cool brick that made up the walls of the building. So this is what Chrollo saw every time they gathered here. Here, in this empty room, sitting on the small shelf memories of his friends flashed in front of him and he wondered what Chrollo felt when the room was filled with the troupe as he looked over the group of people that would go to hell and back for him alone.Feitan’s thin eyebrows knitted tightly as a sharp pang gripped his chest, the feeling of something he didn’t quite grasp. 

Something between jealousy and anger. 

A soft tuft of fur brushed against the bare skin where Feitan’s pants had torn in his earlier fight, causing him to refocus his attention to the small rat that had made its way onto the ledge with him. A hand was stretched out and offered to the brave animal, who then quickly scrambled into the palm of Feitan’s hand in the hopes of being given something to eat. It was the closest Feitan had been to anyone, or anything, that hadn't tried to kill him in the passing months. Fei let out a small chuckle reaching his other hand out to stroke the small rodent’s fur, though the sweet gesture quickly turned sour as a devilish smirk spread across his face, his hand snapping into place as he pinched the rat’s head between his middle and forefinger and crushed the small creature’s throat before pulling its head clean off and smiling happily at the sinewy mess he’d created. An animal like this doesn’t deserve to sit on what was once Danchou’s throne but neither did he, he thought before his shoulders slumped back against the wall as he succumbed to his exhaustion.  
_______

Feitan wasn’t sure what woke him first, the light or the heat from the flames flickering just a few feet from his sleeping form. Either way, it was enough to rouse him from his rest and send him into a panic fueled frenzy. In a matter of seconds the man was on his feet, sword in hand, his aura shooting in every direction to find who’d entered his safe haven. Almost instantly he felt that imposing presence he was all too well attuned to, emanating from his right and he quickly adjusted his stance to block any forthcoming attacks from the intruder – but nothing came. 

Chrollo stepped into the light, his soft features illuminated by the dancing flames. Feitan’s eyes glided down the silhouette of the man in front of him, reveling in the fact that Chrollo might’ve looked even worse off than himself. His clothes were dusty and torn, his pale skin caked in the grimy filth that covered every inch of the broken town they’d both happened to settle in. Apparently he’d toned down his wardrobe after disbanding the troupe; the only gaudy remainder being the turquoise earrings he’d always sported. Even stretching to the farthest reaches of Feitan’s memory he couldn’t recall Chrollo ever not having them.

“You can relax, I’m not here to hurt you.” Chrollo crooned in that sickly sweet voice of his, with his hands held up as if the simple act would subdue Feitan or quell his anger and distrust.

And it did, if only for a moment. Feitan felt his knees shake and his stance break. A movement so small that no one but Chrollo would notice, his eyes giving it away before the sad smile crossed his lips and his gaze tore away from Feitan to look to the cracks in the structure. “You should know better than that. I would not do that, not here”

Feitan’s grip on the hilt of his weapon tightened. “An’ why’d you think I won’t?” he said, keeping his eyes trained on the man before him.

Chrollo stepped forwards, his light movements cautious as he glided across the floor to stop in front of Feitan. His fingers settled on the tip of the sword, guiding the point away from his chest to the side while he stared into the depths of Feitan’s eyes. “I think I know you better than that, Fei.”


	2. Chapter 2

Feitan always set himself up in the corner closest to the door. Chrollo would watch as Feitan ran the hem of his dress through thin fingers and he pulled it up and over his head. He would lay the short piece of clothing out on the ground and set to smoothing out all the wrinkles before he rolled the collar down a few times like a makeshift pillow as if when he laid down it would provide his head and neck with any support.

The shirt and trousers he wore underneath were worn and the dye had faded on the knees and elbows. He never bothered to replace them. Chrollo huffed out a ghost of a laugh as he recalled the memory. Phinks had once teased him for it, suggesting he and Kortopi go shopping at a children's clothing store. It was the first and last time anyone in the troupe made fun of Feitan’s height. It was nothing but a bittersweet reminder now.

In the back of his mind Chrollo knew he was being selfish. Feitan had every reason to hate him, to fight him, to push him out. He was aware that it was wrong to hope for a happy reunion and he knew it was unrealistic to hope Feitan would accept him back into his life as if nothing had happened. But he also knew that Feitan had every reason to turn on his heels and leave the moment Chrollo had stepped into his presence, but he didn’t. Not right away at least, and Chrollo would take that as a victory.

It wasn’t like Chrollo had ever expected to see him again. He left with the knowledge that his meeting with them would be the last he’d ever see of any of them. And for a long time he pretended that he was okay with it. That that what was best for all of them. He’d failed as a leader and his shortsightedness was what led to the deaths of two of their most valuable members.

It was a numbing memory. Even harder than the happy memories was the knowledge that he’d caused the downfall of the thing he had dedicated his life to building up.

And somehow he’d been lucky enough to make contact with Feitan again, and he wouldn’t let the opportunity pass him by. He’d right his wrongs. If he could get back into Feitan’s good graces he could forgive himself. He might even allow himself happiness again.

That was a stretch as well. It had been hard enough for him to get the other to join the troupe when they’d met as children. It was a long shot, his trust wasn’t easily won and once broken he’d never seen someone recover. Not that he’d ever had the chance to see anyone try. 

But he wouldn't let his own betrayal end the way everyone elses’ did. Feitan had left him intact and that was as much as an admission as he needed. He could make his way back into Feitan’s life and he would if it was the last thing he did.  
_____

Feitan woke with a start, his limbs flailing outwards with a fury enough to send the coat he’d been using as a makeshift blanket flying. His hands flew to the ground he was laying on in order to reacquaint himself with his surroundings. Wild eyes scanned his surroundings while he readied himself for whatever was coming.

And nothing came. Wet hair hung around his face in thick matted clumps, hot sweat ran down the base of his neck when he finally realized the situation and allowed himself to relax. He steadied his breathing and closed his eyes as he waited for the anxiety to subside.

At first he’d wished for nothing more than the dreams to stop. He longed for the quiet nights he used to spend alone, when he could fall asleep quickly and wake in the morning. Nightmares would have been preferable to what he saw when he slept. It was when Shal died that Feitan learned that sometimes nightmares were easier to deal with than sweet dreams. Through time he developed a numbness to them. It was simply a part of life for him at this point. 

It wasn't fair that Chrollo thought he could come tumbling back into Feitan’s life and speak to him like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t abandoned them when he was needed most. It wasn’t fair that he could walk away and live his life disregarding the lives he had left in shambles. He could live on like nothing happened. He would always have Hisoka to play cat and mouse with.

He deserved to pay for what he did, and Feitan regretted not taking revenge for his family when he had the chance.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fic in I think a year and a half so forgive how rusty I am. I'll add to the summary later. There is absolutely no feikuro in the English fandom and I'm suffering so u know, I'll just write it myself. This'll be long slow burn multichapter kinda thing, be sure to leave comments and let me know whatcha think! I'm also on tumblr @feikuro
> 
> edit* haha yeah im not continuing this aaaaaaaaaa


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